Now that we’re in our new digs I’ve started exploring the neighborhood. Down the street to Tomboy’s Famous Chiliburgers I went. Adoring their walls are restaurant reviews, the first which dates to 1984 when the joint was run by friendly New Yorkers who (obsessively quoted by the author) say “caw-fee” to the locals. Judging by the clerk’s name on my receipt I’m certain the New Yorkers have fled for greener pastures.

I took notice of the wallpaper all around me. Something from the 70s, maybe early 80s, with a silvery reflection and wide vertical bars with interspersed verticals of complementary colors. The wallpaper was old…ugly…the equivalent of shag were it carpeting.

It got me thinking of our home’s innards that hint to its age. Metal stair railings. Hideous ceiling fans and blinds. Dark brown kitchen cabinetry backed with wood paneling from a by-gone age. Fortunately every wall is painted in light or pleasing colors with no wallpaper to speak of. Oh wait…crap. The guest bathroom has wallpaper, dare I say it, almost the same as Tomboy’s.

Day in, day out we’re busy working, solving problems, raising children, and doing whatever. Suddenly a year goes by. Then two, five, and ten. How much exactly?

Imagine your life as a passenger train hurling down the tracks at breakneck speed. Are you the engineer or the passenger? One is responsible for where it goes and maintaining it for safe passage. The other is simply along for the ride staring idly at the passing landscape.

The next time you’re wondering just how much time has passed (and if you’re the engineer or passenger) take a look at your walls. If the same crazy paper is staring back at you I think you’ll know the answer.

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